


The Bluffing Game

by Mommadon



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Adrien Agreste Knows, Crack, F/M, Fluff, Guardian Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Hot Mess Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Identity Reveal, Mouse Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Multimouse, Post-Reveal Pre-Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Pre-Relationship, Supportive Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-03
Updated: 2021-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-15 08:28:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29805654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mommadon/pseuds/Mommadon
Summary: After a sudden discovery, Adrien is torn between how much he's supposed to know and what he does know.  With this new hand he's been dealt, will he finally be successful in winning his Lady's affections?
Relationships: Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug
Comments: 23
Kudos: 84





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Heya my wonderful friends and readers! Thanks for coming to check out another Mommadon fanfic! Posting new stories, much like falling in love, is a gamble, so if you're enjoying this one, please let me know. Heaven knows I need feedback and motivation to keep writing. ;) I will try to post new chapters at least weekly, probably a couple times a week, and I promise never to ghost one of my fics. Unless I die. Which is a morbid thought, but... you know, gotta give myself a possible contingency... 
> 
> OK, in the eventuality that I die (unexpectedly... I'm not that old or frail), I bequeath all my WIPs to the good folks at the  
> [Miraculous Fanworks Discord Server](https://discord.gg/mlfanworks). Watch out for Plunny Holes. Readers, please feel welcome to join us over there and encourage all your favorite writers in their craft.
> 
> Whew, now that we got that important writing will out of the way, on to some silly quasi-crack fluffy half-reveal shenanigans!!

  
“Kid. Kid! Snap out of it! Crap, I hate it when this happens.” 

Something was pushing Adrien’s cheek. Something soft. Fuzzy. Sharp. SHARP! “OW, Plagg, that hurts!” Adrien prodded his cheek and pulled his fingers away—they were tinged with a small amount of blood. “What the heck? Did you scratch me?”

Plagg was inspecting his miniscule claws, now flecked with blood and shrugged carelessly, “You were spiraling. I’ve seen it too many times to let it go past the four-hour mark.”

Adrien deadpanned at him. “I was not spiraling for four hours.”

“You were well on your way.”

Adrien took a deep breath and swallowed the urge to throttle his kwami. “I just… I can’t believe it’s _Marinette,_ you know. Sweet, timid, bumbling _Marinette._ ”

Plagg rolled his eyes, “Don’t start this again. Next time it won’t be just the claws that come out.”

Adrien shot Plagg another glare and hissed, “You’re pathetic.”

“ _I’m_ pathetic?”

“Yes, you’re pathetic! You’ve known for ages and you let me look right past a girl sitting a meter away—”

“Hey now,” Plagg countered, “I’m bound by magic and you know it—”

“That’s not what I’m talking about. You let me—no, _encouraged_ me to pursue other girls when my heart was set on Ladybug—”

“Not ‘other girls,’ just pigtails.”

“Her name is Marinette, and in my mind, she was a totally different person up until an hour ago, and it wasn’t safe to have feelings for her—or healthy for that matter. Yet you continued to push me at her—"

“Because they’re the same person! I was trying to get you to see their similarities!”

“What if it hadn’t been? You were pushing me into two-timing the love of my life!”

“But I wasn’t!”

Adrien merely flared his nostrils and huffed for a moment, then abandoned that line of argument, “You know what, I don’t care. Nothing’s going to bring me down today. Marinette is Ladybug. There is nothing in this whole world that could dampen my mood.” Adrien ran his hands through his hair and flopped on his bed, letting his smile spread so wide that his cheeks started aching. “Marinette. Can you believe it? Marinette! No _wonder_ I’ve had a crush on her for months! And here I thought I was this awful monster for liking another girl when I was totally in love with Ladybug!”

“A crush you’re only now admitting to,” Plagg noted with a smirk.

Adrien ignored him. “Marinette is incredible. Have you seen her designs? No wonder she’s so good at coming up with clever plans for defeating akumas! And when she’s defending her friends? Nobody’s quite so fierce and loyal as Marinette.”

Plagg snarked, “Don’t let Barkk, the Dog kwami, hear you say that—”

Adrien rubbed his flushed cheeks. “I’m going to call her up and ask her out. What should I say? ‘Hey, Marinette, it’s Adrien, will you marry me? I mean, be my girlfriend?’ yeah, girlfriend first, marriage later, right? Hm. Maybe I should just send flowers first. Oh! I’ve got it, I’ll take flowers to her house and then—”

“And then sweep her off her feet, since she’s _so_ into you—”

“What was that, Plagg?”

“Oh, nothing,” Plagg snickered, but Adrien sat bolt upright.

“I didn’t think of that. What if she… what if she doesn’t like me that way? I mean, Ladybug _did_ say she was in love with a different boy. _Crap._ ” As Adrien rubbed his sweaty palms on his jeans nervously, Plagg chewed on air. Adrien started talking again before Plagg felt obligated to speak, much to the kwami’s relief. “She probably doesn’t like me,” Adrien murmured to himself, his megawatt smile dimming suddenly. “Think about it. Every time we talk, she gets red in the face, she constantly takes back anything nice that she says, and she runs away as soon as possible. Honestly, if we’re not talking about a mutual friend or a school project, it’s like she doesn’t want to be there. Dang. I… I tried to be nice… I… Plagg, do you think Marinette h-hates me?”

Plagg spluttered, “N-no way, kid. Pigtails is… well… she’s kind of like a piece of camembert.”

Adrien rolled his eyes and stormed off to his computer desk. “Thanks, Plagg. Just thanks. I’m needing help here figuring out the love of my life and all you can do is compare her to your stinky cheese.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Plagg whined. “I meant that she hides her true, beautiful feelings deep within, just like the creamy center of a luscious piece of camembert. And when you get to know her, you’ll love her even more—both for the fragrant rind and the gooey inside.” Plagg’s mouth watered just thinking about his cheese, so he went poking through his mini-fridge to find a well-aged wheel.

Adrien sighed, “You sure she doesn’t hate me?”

“Abso-mufley!” Plagg said around his mouth full of pungent camembert. 

“I just need her to get to know me a little better. There’s hope, at least. If she doesn’t hate me, I can work with that. Maybe a little slower than I’d like—probably better not ask her to be my girlfriend straight out of the gate—but dates. Yeah, dates are good! And chocolates, girls love chocolate. Though Marinette lives in that bakery that makes those amazing macarons…oh _wow,_ no wonder Tikki loves her so much, she gets those macarons all the time! So maybe I’ll hold off on the sweets. But now I know _Marinette_ is _Ladybug_ , there’s so much I can do with that! Jagged Stone, Clara Nightingale, OH! Take her behind the scenes at a runway show… Yeah, I can do this, I can show her a different side of me, and maybe get her to like me…” Plagg wasn’t paying much attention to Adrien’s endless rambling, preferring to reorganize his mini fridge by order of rankness. But when Adrien suddenly leapt to his feet, the abrupt motion made Plagg bump his head on the shelf above him. “I need to tell her. Forget all these swoon-worthy date ideas—I need to tell Ladybug I know who she is. It’s the right thing to do.”

“NO!” Plagg yelled, taking Adrien by surprise.

“No? Why no? You know as well as I do that our identities are supposed to remain a secret. She would probably want to know if her identity had been compromised, even if it’s just me who found out.”

Plagg flew up to Adrien’s desk to look him in the eye, “I meant, let’s stop and think about this rationally.”

Adrien lifted an eyebrow, “ _Now_ you’re wanting to talk rationally? Not just make lame cheese metaphors?”

Plagg folded his arms grouchily and said, “Hey, I’m not the one who just spent an hour planning his own wedding. At the age of sixteen. You had to get the fangirling out before you could think straight, admit it.”

Adrien’s face was totally impassive until he finally admitted, “Ok, sure, I needed a moment.”

Plagg nodded once self-righteously, then continued, “Alright, let’s talk about what you know, or _think_ you know.”

“Well, I know that Ladybug is Marinette—”

“No, you saw a pink flash of light coming from Marinette’s locker before Ladybug showed up to fight the akuma.”

“Which was obviously Ladybug transforming.”

“Could have been anyone.”

“And then at the end of the battle, I followed her and saw her land on Marinette’s balcony.” Plagg’s tail swished with excitement at his little game. 

“Probably because Tikki likes the macarons sold there. Pure coincidence.”

Adrien frowned, “I should call her up right now and come clean.”

“On total speculation?”

Adrien raised an eyebrow slowly, “Plagg, why are you being like this?”

“Being like what?” When Adrien didn’t buy it, Plagg finally frowned, “I just… she’ll make you turn in your ring.”

Adrien looked at the Miraculous on his hand and shook his head slowly, “No she won’t.”

“You’re not supposed to know her identity.”

“She still wouldn’t do it. At least not without talking to me and it being both of our decisions. She’s way too nice to just cut me off like that.”

“You sure about that, kid?”

“Yes,” Adrien said with false confidence. 

Plagg fidgeted for a second, then zoomed to the front of Adrien’s desk with narrow eyes, “You _can’t_ risk it! You love being Chat Noir, right? You wouldn’t want to risk losing everything—”

“If losing Chat Noir is the price I have to pay for being honest, then that’s a price I’m willing to—”

“NO! I—I _forbid_ you from telling her!”

Adrien rolled his eyes, “That doesn’t work, and you know it. Wanna spill why you’re so against me coming clean with Ladybug?” Plagg wrung his paws and gnawed his lips. “Don’t tell me,” Adrien teasingly poked his furry tummy, “you’ve grown fond of me. You think I’m the best Chat Noir you’ve ever worked with.”

“N-No,” Plagg gulped, “It’s just that… You’re the only one who gets me camembert, ok?”

Adrien’s brows knit, “What? Camembert?”

“Yeah! I’ve never been with a kid who can afford it, ok?”

“Well, surely you’ve had pieces, at least what you can scrounge—”

“But you provide whole wheels of it! Endless, beautiful, torrents, no, _oceans_ of the finest cheese in the universe, and I refuse, _refuse_ to go back in the Miracle Box, or worse, go to some newbie who supplies pre-sliced slabs of orange goo…” Plagg shuddered. “So keep your mouth shut or so help me, I’ll… I’ll cataclysm your foosball table!”

Adrien threw back his head laughing, “My foosball table? That’s the best you’ve got?”

Plagg puffed out his little chest and grabbed Adrien’s nose, pulling his master back into reality, “Your anime collection then.”

Adrien gasped, “ _No!”_

Plagg stared him dead in the eye, “Starting with _Sekirei._ ”

Adrien’s jaw had gone slack. He covered his lips with trembling fingers. “You wouldn’t!”

Plagg stubbornly smirked, “Every. Last. Episode. So, if I were you, I’d steer clear of Ladybug.”

Adrien shook his head grimly, “You’re a fiend, Plagg. You know being honest is the right thing to do.”

Plagg just folded his arms. The deal was on the table; it was up to Adrien to make his play. 

“Fine,” Adrien conceded after a few tense moments, “I won’t tell her, at least not immediately. I still think it’s the right thing to do, but… I know, I’ll ask her.”

“You’ll ask her?” Plagg scoffed, then mocked in a high voice, “ ‘Hey pigtails, want me to tell you that I know you’re Marinette?’ Yeah, that’s going to work _real_ well…”

Adrien just rolled his eyes again, “I’m a _little_ smarter than that. I’ll just ask her how she would feel if, hypothetically, I found out her identity.” Plagg still looked skeptical. “I’ll think of something, I promise. And I won’t tell her I know who she is unless that’s what she wants.”

Plagg thought about that for a second, then nodded. “I suppose I can live with that.”

“But if she tells me I have to tell her what I know and turn in my ring, then that’s what I’m going to do. It’s only right.”

Plagg frowned, “I don’t like it, but I guess that’s ok. It’s just that this whole ‘honesty matters’ business stinks sometimes.”

Adrien smiled softly, “Indeed it does. But what kind of hero would I be if I wasn’t honest, at least as much as I can be?”

Adrien and Plagg shook on their deal. “I guess. Now,” Plagg tossed on a saccharine smile, “how about you prove your worth by ordering some more cheese? We’re getting low on the triple crème…”

Adrien rolled his eyes (his eyeballs were getting tired after excessive eyerolling in the last hour or so) and smirked to himself. “We’ll see what we can find.” 

But Adrien hadn’t had a chance to finalize his cheese order or do any of his homework when an akuma alert sounded. “Another one?” he grumbled, “That’s twice in a day!”

“Save the order, save the order!” Plagg nervously hummed.

“Don’t worry about the order,” Adrien groaned. “We’ve got more important things to do.”

“More important? What could be more important than delicious, fresh, triple cre—”

“Plagg, claws out!”


	2. Chapter 2

“What do you think, Chat?”

“Other than you’re the most beautiful person in the universe?”

The corner of her mouth twitched playfully, despite rolling her eyes, “Yes, other than that.”

Chat Noir stretched his back on the railing he was leaning against. He was tired, yes, but she’d been working twice as hard as him since the start of this. She must be _exhausted._ “I think we’ve been at this for hours, and we’re nowhere closer to ending this. I mean, if we could just get it to hold still, even for a second—”

Ladybug nodded with a thoughtful frown, “You’re right.”

“Like usual,” he winked. “So… reinforcements time?”

She sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose, “Definitely, but who, and what?”

Who and what. The same questions they’d been asking each other for the last few months, ever since battling Miracle Queen and losing all their secondary heroes in one moment thanks to Chloe exposing their identities. Every one of them from Rena Rouge down to King Monkey was likely being watched and targeted—a risk they simply couldn’t take. But Hawkmoth’s game had ramped up considerably, so they were often faced with the difficult decision between trying to hold the fort on their own, calling on someone who was a liability, or looking for another hero with less natural talent. As Chat Noir looked at Ladybug, he couldn’t help but notice the sagging smile, the dim eyes, the slouching posture. Her exhaustion was more than just due to the long battle. The war against Hawkmoth had been taking a huge toll on her, as well as being the Guardian of the Miracle Box, and Chat Noir’s newfound knowledge about the personal life of Ladybug— _Marinette!—_ made him all the more eager to help her in any way he could. She was so worn out from the challenges that were hers alone, yet still so sweet and graceful. It made his heart swell with love. Chat Noir thought carefully about the fight still raging and about Ladybug’s responsibilities before he spoke, “We need the Bee Miraculous, that’s for certain. You know I’d be happy to pick someone out to wield it, but that’s really the job of the Guardian.” She pulled a face at that and he rushed, “I know, I know, you hate it when we talk about that. But it’s a burden that I can’t share with you, as much as I wish I could, if only to make your life even marginally simpler.” 

She pouted briefly, surveying the damage that SpeeDemon had caused. “You’re right. The Bee Miraculous would be perfect for this job. But Chloe’s a hard pass, and… I’m running low on options.”

Chat Noir squeezed her shoulder reassuringly, “I’ll hold the fort until you get back. Go, take ten, get Tikki a treat, and come back when you’ve got someone willing. I’m sure whoever you choose will be great.”

Ladybug’s face melted into a smile of relief, “Really?”

“Of course,” he softened his tone and gently pressed his lips to her knuckles before she could pull her hand away. “We’re a team. Ol’ SpeeDemon over there isn’t going anywhere in the ten minutes I need, and while I can’t make this choice for you, I can certainly buy you a little bit of rest. Please let me help this time. I wish I could do more, but I can do this.”

Her lower lip trembled briefly, then she opened her yo-yo and pulled out the Miracle Box. She pressed the yellow dot on the outside, and it opened to reveal the hair comb with the jeweled bee on the top. She gave him a gracious look that melted his insides. Chat Noir smiled at her before racing off to re-engage SpeeDemon and hopefully contain the damage until Ladybug got back. 

* * *

Chat Noir prided himself on his ability to work with just about anyone. One time when Adrien was thirteen, he’d been paired up with a model from a different agency, and her photographer had complimented him: “Wow, you’re so eager to please, Adrien!” Later, that photographer had written a gushing review of the event: “If you can’t get along with Adrien Agreste, you can’t get along with anyone.” Adrien had worn that review like a badge of honor ever since. 

But if today didn’t shape up, he might have to turn in his badge in shame. 

“Sa—I mean, Buzz-Buzz, on your left!” Chat yelled. Sabrina—uh, Buzz-Buzz—turned pointedly to her right. “Other left!” Chat grumbled, but by the time she’d turned the correct direction, SpeeDemon had zipped off and Chat Noir had to chase him down again. He sighed as he cornered SpeeDemon where the akuma couldn’t do much damage. Ladybug flew overhead. He made eye contact with her and she pointed at Sabrina— _Buzz-Buzz—_ and at a signpost and held up her lucky charm, and that was all the instructions Chat needed. “Ok, SpeeDemon, let’s see if you can handle this!” Chat Noir timed his attack carefully so that Ladybug would have an open shot from the back. The akuma fell for it! Chat Noir vaulted himself above the signpost and screamed, “Buzz-Buzz, NOW!”

As soon as he heard her tenuous voice cry “Venom!” Chat called up his Cataclysm. Buzz-Buzz shakily clamped her hand over her eyes and hurled her top with all she was worth. 

“Don’t close your eyes—“ Chat screamed, but it was far too late. The top completely missed its mark, got caught on the signpost, arched upward, and stabbed Chat Noir in the leg. He froze and fell from the top of his staff slowly and painfully, landing helter-skelter on the pavement, right hand still bubbling black energy.

Ladybug facepalmed. Chat Noir couldn’t move his eyes, but just laid there, unblinking, watching as Buzz-Buzz squealed in horror and came over to look at him. Inside, he was raging. Ladybug’s perfect plan had been foiled! “Chat Noir!” she cried, “I’m so sorry! Oh, I’m the worst hero ever!” Chat was glad his mouth was paralyzed so the snarky retort couldn’t snake out and bite her. Frustrated as he was, Chat didn’t want to hurt Sabrina.

Ladybug tucked her lucky charm behind her back and raced over to check on Chat. “Shoot, I’m so sorry, Chat!” 

If he could have moved his lips, he would have grinned to have her there, fawning over him. But the grin wouldn’t have lasted long once he saw the frustration on her face. Instead, it made Chat even more ticked—he should be there. This should be over. He should be pressing his fist to hers and then teasing her a bit and letting her go home to bed.

SpeeDemon raced around him a few times, cackling in laughter. “Oh, you think that’s so funny, do you?” Ladybug hissed.

“Hillarious!” SpeeDemon guffawed, accelerating in his running. Buzz-Buzz had given up trying to help and now was kneeling next to Chat Noir, crying hysterically. Ladybug fingered her yo-yo, and Chat could see the wheels in her head turning. He sensed her shift in plan a split second before she brandished the yo-yo like a whip, hooked it around Chat’s waist, and heaved. Chat went flying through the air, and somehow his outstretched Cataclysm hand hit SpeeDemon’s track shoes while the akuma was taking a large step forward. “What?” SpeeDemon cried as the akuma’s energy dissipated and he was left on the ground—nothing but a lanky teenager in a track uniform. Chat Noir fell unceremoniously to the ground again until Ladybug had finished purifying the akuma and calling Miraculous Ladybug. After the sparkling ladybugs had danced over his body, he stood and stretched in relief.

“That was un- _bee-_ lievable, My Lady!” he winked. “Pound it!” he cried, and Ladybug ignored his extended fist and instead threw her arms around him, exhausted and unsmiling. Chat Noir’s heart thrummed in his chest at her outburst of affection. But her hug was brief, and then Ladybug, true to form, made sure the akuma victim was ok. Once the lanky teenager had a ride home and was feeling better, Ladybug thrust a thumb toward a nearby rooftop for them to get some privacy. Chat followed her up there, encouraging Buzz-Buzz to accompany them.

“I… I’m so sorry,” Buzz-Buzz was wailing as she landed on the rooftop, “I messed everything up.”

Ladybug looked at the starry sky for a moment to calm herself, then threw on a mostly-real look of tenderness, “No, it’s not your fault. I threw you in the deep end on your first try.”

“Technically, you threw _me_ in the deep end,” Chat Noir chuckled. Ladybug didn’t laugh. 

“My f-first try?” Buzz-Buzz noted hopefully, wiping her nose on her wrist, “You mean I might get a-another chance? Oh! This is the best day of my life!” she started skipping. Her hair comb was beeping, so Ladybug held out her hand and Sabrina took off the Miraculous and returned it to the spotted superheroine. 

“Um,” Ladybug maintained the same strained-but-kind expression as she added, “Well, you _did_ slip your identity to Chat Noir…” Sabrina looked crushed with even that much of a rejection, so Ladybug hastily added, “but all’s well that ends well, right?”

“Yeah,” Chat Noir picked up in an attempt to relieve some of the stress on Ladybug’s shoulders, “that was certainly an… interesting akuma.”

“So, how does this work? Chloe had a bee signal so you would know where to find her! I could do that, I’ll bet I could borrow it—”

“No!” Ladybug and Chat Noir yelped in tandem.

“That is,” Ladybug cleared her throat, “we can’t let Hawkmoth know who you are or where you’re hiding. We have to keep your whereabouts completely secret.”

“Yeah,” Chat Noir shot her finger guns, “safety is important! So, don’t call us, we’ll call you!”

Sabrina squealed in delight and skipped off, thanking the two superheroes over her shoulder as she left. Ladybug gave a single exhausted groan and Chat Noir mumbled, “Recharge, then our roof in ten?”

“Definitely,” she moaned before bugging out.

* * *

“Don’t say it.”

“I wasn’t going to,” Chat Noir defended with his hands in the air.

“I know what you’re thinking, so _don’t say it,”_ she repeated grumpily.

“Still not saying it!” he chuckled.

“Ok, fine, _I’ll_ say it—that was a disaster!”

 _How_ had Adrien not seen Marinette in Ladybug? Wow, he was kind of blind, wasn’t he? “It wasn’t that bad!”

Ladybug deadpanned at him, “She closed her eyes as she was throwing her venom-laden top, which completely missed the akuma and hit _you_ instead, completely destroying our carefully laid trap. And that was _after_ blowing her identity—”

“Only to me!”

“—letting the akuma escape twice, completely crunching that one storefront, and screaming about—”

“Alright, fine, it was pretty awful. But all of us were clumsy when we first started.”

He encouraged Ladybug to sit down, then knelt behind her so he could tenderly massage her neck. She hummed and leaned into his touch, “Mm, that feels nice.” Chat Noir smiled to himself. He’d seen Alya give Marinette neck massages before—he knew she liked them. Just one more thing he could do to make her life amazing and maybe earn some points in his favor while he waited for the opportune moment to talk to her. “And yeah, learning how to be a superhero takes some practice and training, but… ugh, I’ve never messed up choosing _that_ badly.”

“Don’t be so hard on yourself,” Chat whispered with no other thought than helping her relax and realize how much he cared about her. “It was a really good thought.” 

“The biggest issue I’m having,” she continued bitterly as Chat worked on a particularly stubborn knot on her deltoid, “is that I still believe _that’s_ the best we’ve got left. You said to find someone willing, and someone who Hawkmoth hadn’t seen with a Miraculous, and that’s it. That’s how it’s going to be. This is our life now.”

Chat Noir frowned. Try as he may to keep Ladybug’s spirits high, it _was_ pretty bad. If it hadn’t been for his brawn and Ladybug’s brain, they’d still be fighting SpeeDemon—or worse. It probably would have been better not to bring in another superhero for how clumsy Sabrina had been. Maybe she would have been better with a different Miraculous, but Chat didn’t think training or practice would make much of a difference. Some people just weren’t cut out for superheroing. Not that he’d say that to Ladybug, at least not without a better idea on how to beat the increasingly-difficult akumas. “For what it’s worth,” he said softly, working his fingers down her spine to her lower back, “I think you’re doing a great job as Guardian and leader. So, we had a rough day. It happens! It’s not always going to be perfect, but the important thing is that we keep trying.” 

She nodded slowly, her pigtails bouncing over Chat Noir’s knuckles. “I know, I know. This whole guardian thing is a lot harder than I ever expected.” She leaned backward and looked up at him behind her. 

“That’s why you need a fantastic partner,” he winked at how adorable she was being. Her lips were so pouty and pink. He vaguely wondered what they tasted like.

“Thanks for being there for me, Kitty. I don’t know what I’d do without you. Well, I do know—I’d still be caught in my yo-yo string, waiting for a real superhero to come rescue me.”

He chuckled at that image, but then whispered, “But it was _you_ who rescued _me,_ My Lady.”

Warmth passed between them. She blushed lightly and bit her lip. Chat hoped he hadn’t made her uncomfortable, but she didn’t seem angry. She looked forward once again and Chat Noir gulped as their conversation hit a natural lull. This was it. This was the moment he needed. “Um, Ladybug?” he said, subconsciously picking up the intensity of the massage he was still giving her.

“Hmm?”

“I have a purely hypothetical question for you.”

“Uh-oh,” she teased softly, “that sounds serious.”

“I was thinking,” he rehearsed carefully, “and not like it’s happened or anything, but just if sometime in the distant future, not right now—”

“I get it,” she giggled, “just ask!”

He chuckled nervously, “What would you want me to do if I ever found out your identity?”

She whipped around to look at him, leaving his hands hanging in midair over her shoulders, “ _What?”_

He waved as nonchalantly as possible, “Just a question. Like what happened with Sabrina today—she introduced herself to me as ‘Sabrin—UH—Buzz-Buzz, I mean!’ and then we had to make a last-second decision to let her finish the akuma fight or to end it then and there. And that, on top of other recent events, made me wonder if one of us were to accidentally slip up sometime, what should we do? Like, would you want me to turn in my ring or… or something?”

She frowned and looked at the ring on his hand, then met his gaze again, “I… I can’t imagine doing this with someone else, Chat. I—” she blinked a few times, then turned away from him and settled back between his knees so he could start up his massage again, “I don’t have the emotional capacity to imagine trying to find a new partner right now.”

What in the world did _that_ mean? “So… you wouldn’t take away my Miraculous?”

She exhaled noisily, “I don’t know. I wouldn’t want to, but I guess it depends on the situation and… Just… keep your theories to yourself and everything will be fine, right?”

“So I shouldn’t tell you if I acci—”

“Why are you pressing this?” Ladybug frowned. She looked so tired. He pressed his thumb into the worried _v_ between her eyebrows and rubbed it softly, trying to make it go away.

“N-No reason,” he countered. Wow, she was _so_ beautiful. “Like I said, purely hypothetical.”

“Then let’s not worry about it, ok?” As she leaned into his touch slightly, his stomach clenched.

Chat Noir didn’t say anything more. His brain was whirling. So, he shouldn’t say anything to her about it. She didn’t want to know, even if he knew. She was too overwhelmed. Well, valid. Wielding a Miraculous had never been more demanding, and with the added stress of being the guardian _and_ Ladybug, no wonder she was exhausted. Several moments passed with Chat Noir absentmindedly scratching Marinette’s back. LADYBUG! No slip-ups, Agreste! You’ve got to keep your head in the game!

“Kitty, I’m sorry,” she unexpectedly moaned. “I didn’t mean to snap at you.” Snap at him? When? She hadn’t snapped… “This whole guardian gig is just really hard, and I don’t want things to change between us, you know?”

“Oh, um,” he eloquently stated. 

“I _do_ value your ideas, though, and never want you to feel like you can’t ask me a question. I just don’t have time for unexpected surprises, you know?”

“Sure,” he said, even though he had no idea what she meant. 

She turned and smiled at him, warmly, genuinely, her soft blue eyes melting him like a wheel of camembert. “It’s just that…” she started, “I really love being your partner. I love spending time with you. I’m so afraid of losing what we’ve got that I… I just can’t think about anything new, you know?” He nodded a little bit, even though he wasn’t sure what she was talking about. How would a new teammate take away from their partnership? Or perhaps Plagg was right—perhaps, if he admitted what he knew, she’d be forced to immediately take away his Miraculous and he’d lose her entirely. But that still felt unlikely, and it wasn’t exactly what she was trying to say. He needed clarification.

“Are you… are you talking about other Miraculous holders?”

To his surprise, Ladybug’s cheeks flamed bright red. “Um, y-yeah,” she stuttered unconvincingly, “O-other Miraculous holders, joining the t-team!”

“I see,” he said, still feeling like he was missing something, “Well, if you don’t feel good about adding new superheroes right now, I’m sure we can come up with a better solution. I don’t want to mess with our dynamic either. If we do need more superheroes, it’s got to benefit the team.”

“Thanks for understanding, Chaton.” She reached up and kissed him softly on the cheek and his cheeks flamed. She stood and rubbed her thighs to wake them up from sitting on the rooftop for so long. “I’m not in a good place for relationships, but I am so grateful I have you. I’ll see you in a few days for patrol, unless we get blessed by Hawkmoth again?”

“Mm-hmm,” he nodded, then watched, dumbfounded, as she zipped away. 

‘I don’t want things to change,’ she’d said. ‘I don’t have time for unexpected surprises.’ ‘I’m not in a good place for relationships.’ What did that even mean? Why did girls have to talk in code? Why didn’t they come with a user manual? One thing was clear—she did _not_ want him to let her know that he’d stumbled across her identity. Another thing was also clear—she felt some tenderness toward him; his still-stinging cheek testified of that. But then her last few sentences rattled around his brain— _not a good place for relationships._ Was she saying she wasn’t dating anyone? Or that she didn’t want to date him? Or was she still strictly speaking of other potential superheroes that she didn’t have time to train? He was confused, but fiercely determined to help her and let her know that he loved her. So, as Chat Noir picked over the rooftops of Paris on his way home that night, he formulated a plan. Marinette was so, so close. But she wasn’t ready yet to admit her soft spot for Chat Noir. And, she wasn’t interested in a relationship just yet. So, it would need to be quiet. It would need to be subtle. It would need to be romantic. Just a few little things to encourage her feelings for her Kitty, and maybe if he played his cards right, he’d get a chance to tell her just how much he cared for her, with or without her mask. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, this chapter helps set the plot a little better than the last. Thanks for coming by! Please let me know how you like it so far, and what you hope Adrien does to catch Marinette's attention!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adrien, having found out Ladybug's identity, but unaware of Marinette's feelings for him, turns on the charm.

Marinette’s stomach swooped as she ran across the street while holding a box of day-old croissants above her head—Adrien’s sleek silver sedan had just departed, and the blonde supermodel was stretching after climbing out of the car. His shirt was pulling over his muscles just enough to be thrilling—at least for a girl who _still_ was head over heels for him, no matter how hard she tried. She’d given up hope on ever being able to confess her love for him, and knew it was a fool’s errand to dream that he might return her feelings, but she couldn’t stop the butterflies from threatening to lift her off her feet every time she saw him. Marinette watched him ruffle his hair and adjust the strap of his messenger bag, and she nearly tripped over the gutter, but managed to correct her trajectory in time to merely careen to a halt. She felt pretty proud of not completely splatting on the pavement. Sure, she was still bent at a ninety-degree-angle and facing the ground, and the croissants were jostled pretty badly, but… well, baby steps.

“Whoa, Marinette, you ok?”

A pair of shoes came into her field of view. A pair of orange shoes. Her gaze slowly slid up the narrow pantlegs, to the messenger bag slung over the shoulder casually, to the black undershirt tucked into a belt cinched around his waist, a causal yet stylish white shirt loose over the undershirt, and welcoming outstretched hands, and finally the soft smile and tender gaze of Adrien. Freaking. Agreste.

“A-Adrien?” she squeaked, feeling her face flame what had to be at least a hundred degrees. Why oh _why_ did her cheeks betray her every time she tried to talk to him?

“You looked like you almost fell for a second there, just wanted to make sure you were ok,” he said kindly. 

“Oh, um, that? Yeah, that’s just being me… I mean, me being me.”

He chuckled, “Well, I’m glad you’re ok. How was your weekend?”

Was he really still there, still talking to her? “Uh, good. Not as good as today. I mean, how was your weekend?”

He flashed a heart-stopping smile at her and stepped closer into her personal space. She felt like she might explode. “It was the best weekend of my life,” he sighed. “Hey, do you need some help carrying those in?” he indicated the croissants.

She blinked rapidly as her brain was having a hard time processing what he was saying when it was screaming ADRIEN IS TALKING TO YOU incessantly. “Um, sure?”

He laughed again and carefully took the box from her arms. “These smell great,” he noted.

“My dad made them yesterday. They’re leftovers, but I didn’t think the class would mind.”

“That’s so thoughtful of you, Marinette,” Adrien said, and Marinette marveled at the way he could watch her and walk gracefully at the same time. “You’re always thinking of nice things to do for other people.”

She blushed again. “Th-thanks. So, wh-what made your weekend so amazing?”

He smiled at her again and winked cryptically, “Just some excellent news. Something I’ve been hoping for for a long time.”

“Oh,” she responded lamely. 

“But tell me more about what you were working on this weekend. I know you always have a project or two in the works.”

This weekend… That weekend Marinette had fought three akumas total (one Saturday, two yesterday), had made a big batch of powerups, field tested both Roaar and Ziggy, and… “I, um, helped my dad in the bakery, did my homework, and…” she suddenly remembered, “oh yeah! I landed a commission for half a dozen scarves and hats for Jagged Stone’s upcoming tour to Scandinavia! So that’s going to keep me busy for a while.”

Adrien was listening with rapt attention. “That’s incredible. And you still found time for… for bringing a treat to your friends. You’re so busy, yet still so thoughtful. How do you do it?”

She giggled, “Not very well, that’s for sure.”

He paused just to smile at her fondly, and Marinette’s knees nearly collapsed, “All evidence to the contrary. You must be tired, even though you look terrific.”

She was nearly knocked on her butt. Marinette didn’t think her face could go hotter, but apparently it could. After struggling to breathe for a second, she shrugged, “I’ve managed worse.”

“Still,” he said, leaning in slightly, the heavenly smell of his shampoo overwhelming her senses, “there’s gotta be something, or some _one,_ perhaps, that helps take off the load? Maybe someone you’re happy with, or even… even romantic with?”

She choked a bit, but spluttered, “Ro-romantic? Are you kidding me? Ha! No. Definitely not.”

Adrien’s eyes went wide, “Really?”

“One-hundred percent certain.” Not that she wouldn’t love to be romantic with someone. Someone who happened to be standing a quarter meter away and smelled fantastic and was holding a box of croissants for her.

“Well, that _is_ good news.”

What in the world did _that_ mean? She almost asked him, but the bell rang. Marinette looked down. They were in their classroom. When did that happen? She must have been so caught up in Adrien’s voice and the way his mouth moved that she didn’t notice that they’d made it to class on time. 

“Hey everyone,” Adrien announced to the student body, “Marinette brought croissants, isn’t that super nice of her?”

The class enthusiastically cheered.

“Wow, thanks Marinette!”

“Awe, she’s the best!”

“High-five, Mari!” 

But in that moment, all Marinette could do was marvel at the blond who shot her a thumbs-up before snagging the largest croissant for himself, and settling down in front of her. Since when did Adrien walk her into class? Since when did he give her compliments and listen to her ramble about her weekend? And most importantly, what did she need to do to get him to continue?

Class started. Marinette gazed lovingly at Adrien’s blonde head. Alya jabbed her with an elbow to force her to pay better attention, but it was hard when Adrien, _Adrien_ had said she looked terrific. When _Adrien_ had carried the box of croissants that probably would have been doomed without him. When _Adrien_ turned on that brilliant smile of his.

 _Hello! Earth to Marinette!_ her brain called to her from a distance. _Is this the same girl who just last night was swooning over Chat Noir, and then freaking out because she was SWOONING over CHAT NOIR??_

Marinette pinched herself, hard, then locked her eyes on Mlle. Bustier, forcing herself to pay attention. But it was a futile effort. Moments later, she was daydreaming again, remembering a very different blonde boy and his comforting words and warm hands on her back. He’d been so kind, so helpful… well, he was always kind and helpful. A flirt, for sure, but Chat Noir was _always_ in tune with the needs of others (especially her), the first on scene, and the last to leave. He was a fantastic partner and friend. But last night? Last night as he’d sat with her and talked out her frustrations finding new superheroes, and then he’d given her that nice back rub, and… and… and she’d _caved!_ For one brief moment, she’d given up on Adrien, and fallen for Chat Noir. She’d envisioned a whole life with him—filled with laughter and love, and it was beautiful. He’d even hinted at asking her out again, or at least she thought he had. She might have said yes, if he’d asked her last night. But he hadn’t. He’d gotten so close, and then started talking about hypothetical situations, and the danger of him finding out her identity and akumatization and Chat Blanc came racing back. As she’d looked at her kitty last night, she’d remembered the destruction and the fear of trying to save him, and how horrifying her name had sounded coming out of his mouth in that astringent, sterile world, and she came back to reality. Who was she kidding? She couldn’t have a life with Chat Noir. They couldn’t go on dates. They couldn’t hang out. And Adrien was in love with another girl, and Marinette was Ladybug. Ladybug was doomed to a life of solitude. Or so it felt.

She tried to take some notes. She’d made peace with her future. Really. But then, Adrien turned around in his seat, and his green eyes smiled at her for a second, and her stomach knotted up again. Gah! Who even _was_ she? A pair of handsome green eyes and a head of golden hair was all it took to work her up into a blathering idiot. 

Wait. Blonde hair and green eyes… She… She had a _type!_ Chat Noir and Adrien were suddenly so similar in her mind. She scrubbed her temples to get the image of Adrien wearing cat ears out of her naughty brain. But that only made her picture Chat Noir without a mask, reading Shakespeare out to the class or working on a science project. _Shut up, brain! This is SO not cool!_

Just when Marinette felt like she might need to ask to be excused from class to silence her traitorous brain, there was an unexpected knock on the door. Mlle. Bustier blinked in confusion and went to open the door. Nothing like an interruption of class to bring her back into reality. “Oh,” Mlle. Bustier was saying to whoever was on the other side of the door, “Oh, that’s fun. Ok, well, that’s fine by me. Sure, come on in.”

By now, the whole class was on the edge of the seats to see who the savior was who had wasted a few minutes of class time and brightened up a typically bland lecture on how to conduct an interview. In walked an unfamiliar young adult, wearing a green hat and matching vest emblazoned with “Harold’s Horticulture” on it. But what _really_ caught everyone’s attention was the impressive bouquet of red roses they carried. 

Marinette giggled. Clearly, Mlle. Bustier’s fiancé had sent her flowers. “That’s sweet,” Marinette breathed to Alya. Alya was already snapping pictures covertly.

“Ahem,” the delivery person cleared their throat dramatically, even though the entire class was paying rapt attention, “Is there a Marinette Dupain-Cheng here?”

Marinette froze. Her knuckles turned white as they gripped the edge of the desk. Her face flamed bright red. She couldn’t think or hear. If she could, she would have gone even _brighter_ red, because the class gave a surprised murmur. Everyone, _everyone_ , turned to look at her. The only person, however, in her field of vision, was Adrien, and the look he gave her was full of excited anticipation. But Marinette was too shocked to register that. She wasn’t registering anything. The flower delivery person knew who Marinette was by the dozens of eyes boring into her right now, and the splotchy red skin that was acting as a target. 

“Ah, you’re Marinette?” they said, “Well, someone sent you flowers.”

“Th-thanks,” she managed on autopilot as the flowers were set on the desk, completely obscuring her view of the front of the room. The smell was divine. 

All at once, her sense of hearing turned back on. A rush of muttering voices and the whooshing sound of blood pumping from her heart-in-overdrive was deafening. 

“Who’re they from?”

“It’s so cute, someone sent Marinette flowers!”

“She deserves it, don’t you think?”

“How come you don’t send me flowers in the middle of class?”

“I didn’t think we were allowed! Hey, that hurt.”

“Isn’t _anyone_ going to say who sent them?”

Marinette struggled to know how to use her hands. She needed to hide the flowers as soon as possible so the class could continue, and she could get back to normal life. She could fawn over them all she wanted after school, but for now, all she wanted was to not be in the spotlight. She picked them up—wow, the vase was heavy—and looked around nervously. She looked at the floor to her side, but remembering what a klutz she was, she envisioned three hundred ways for them to get kicked over and trampled before looking to her left. Alya was taking pictures. Great. Just great. “Um,” she whimpered, “where can I… um…”

“Here,” a warm voice said, suddenly beside her, and she peeked over the bouquet and locked gazes with those darned gorgeous emeralds. “We can put them on the windowsill by the door until class ends.” His fingers grazed hers as he touched the vase of flowers, clearly intent on taking them elsewhere himself. 

All she could manage was an embarrassed nod. Adrien winked at her as he swept up her fragrant bouquet in his graceful hands and walked them over to the window by the door. “Wait,” he added after he set them down, “there’s a card. You should read it!”

The class cheered their assent. Marinette wanted to die. Adrien placed the card in a lime green envelope on her desk. Even Mlle. Bustier was watching with an eager expression, so Marinette shakily picked up the card and slipped her finger under the seal. It was glossy black with a kitten on the front and “Hope you have a Paw-Some Day!” written on the outside. Inside, however, was a poem. Marinette read quickly, praying she could say it was a mistake or that the flowers were from Adrien. 

_Your smile makes my heart pound_

_Your laugh is my favorite sound_

_I lose myself in your bluebell eyes_

_I hope you liked this small sur-purr-ise_

_Love, Your Prince_

Marinette slammed the card shut and stuffed it under the desk, not trusting herself to look at it again. 

“What did it say?” Alya groaned, shaking Marinette’s arm. “Who is it from?”

“I… I don’t know. It’s not signed,” Marinette whispered, her voice feeling gravely after all the nervous swallowing she’d been doing.

“Oh, look at that,” Adrien grinned, “Marinette’s got herself a secret admirer.”

The classroom erupted. Marinette sunk into her seat and hid herself behind her hands. She never saw the look of pride that crossed Adrien’s face.


	4. Chapter 4

Adrien was watching the clock religiously and counted down the seconds for the bell to ring. Consequently, as soon as that chime sounded, he was by Marinette’s flowers before anyone else made it out of their seats. He was bouncing on the balls of his feet excitedly as she carefully stashed away her pencils and notebooks, and then she looked up and saw him and blushed lightly. The way the light danced across her cheeks, the way her eyebrows lifted—Adrien’s stomach lurched into his chest. Wow. She’d been in this very classroom all this time! Not that Marinette had never turned his eye—but today, he _only_ had eyes for her. She slowly got to her feet and stumbled down the stairs and over to where he was waiting. “Hey Marinette,” he grinned, “this is an _awfully_ big bouquet. Need some help carrying it home?”

She blinked a few times in comprehension, then smiled at him hesitantly, “Sure, I guess. But don’t you always go home for lunch? Aren’t your bodyguard and Nathalie waiting for you?”

He shrugged smoothly, “Nah, I told them I needed to stay on campus today.”

That seemed to confuse her more, “Oh, you need to stay on campus?”

“No,” he smirked, “that’s what I told them.”

Her eyebrows lifted into her bangs, “Adrien Agreste,” she teased with a lilt to her tone, “ _lying_ to his bodyguard to sneak away for lunch? I’m impressed!”

“Marinette Dupain-Cheng, teasing the austere Agreste heir? No, _I’m_ the one who’s impressed.”

She squeaked and clamped her hand over her mouth and shook her head, “Oh, A-Adrien, I’m s-s-sorry—”

“Don’t be,” he chortled, “I love it when you tease.” He patted her shoulder softly. She looked at the place where he’d touched her and giggled softly to herself. He didn’t know what that meant, but at least she came back to face him with a smile. He lifted the roses from their perch in the window.

She seemed to relax a bit, shouldered her bag, and nodded toward the door, “Well, if you want to carry that… that _thing_ for me, I’m not going to stop you. Probably the only way it’ll make it from this second story classroom, across the street, and all the way up to my third story bedroom in one piece.”

Adrien laughed at her joke. “Oh Marinette,” he sighed, “it’s not that bad…”

“Yes, it is,” she giggled, “I’m madly clumsy. You didn’t notice?”

He swallowed hard after hearing her flippantly use the term ‘madly clumsy,’ and had to literally bite his tongue to prevent himself from saying something stupid, thanks to the mad haze of love that was clouding his thoughts. “It’s really not that bad,” he insisted under his breath. She didn’t reply, so he decided to change the subject to avoid her feeling awkward. “So, any idea who sent these gorgeous flowers?”

She looked at the roses in his arms and frowned, “Well, the card wasn’t signed.”

He smelled them, “Mmm, someone must really like you.”

She cleared her throat and stumbled again (Adrien was really glad he was holding the visibility-reducing flowers so that she could have all her faculties available for staying upright), “W-Why do the flowers have to mean someone likes me? F-flowers can mean anything you know, it can be f-friendship or, or sympathy, or, or, or…”

Adrien laughed, “Red roses, Marinette?”

She was blushing, for some strange reason. “Well…”

“The card had to have said _something.”_ He’d spent an embarrassing amount of time drafting that poem. He _knew_ it said something.

She fretted her lip with her teeth and muttered, “Well, maybe. Something.”

“So, who was it? And do they like you?”

She looked away and stopped walking right outside the bakery door. “I…I don’t know.” She gulped. Why was she so nervous? He’d have to do something drastic to put her at ease. “I… I think I can manage them now, so you can go get some lunch…”

“Are you kidding me?” he winked, flashing her his most disarming grin, “I promised I’d take them all the way up to your room.”

“B-But,” she protested, “I haven’t cleaned!”

He just rolled his eyes and pushed the entrance open with his back. She meeped and raced in after him. “Marinette?” Marinette’s mother said, “Welcome—oh my! Is that Adrien? With flowers?”

“Just helping Marinette carry this lovely display from a secret admirer!” he chirped.

“A secret—”

“It’s not what you think, Mom!” Marinette cried. “I’ll just take them up to my room and—”

“Not a chance,” he teased, and marched straight for the staircase to the residence above. Marinette grumbled and bolted to make it up the stairs before him. He didn’t stop walking until he was at the trap door that led to her bedroom. Suddenly, Adrien realized he was about to head into Marinette’s— _Ladybug’s—_ bedroom, and he halted. “You know, only if it’s ok,” he said sheepishly, realizing he hadn’t been taking her feelings into account much. Mlle. Bustier’s lectures on consent came whizzing to mind. She took a couple steadying breaths. He gave her the softest look he could muster. “I’m sorry, I should have asked if you wanted me to deliver these stunning flowers to your room.”

Her fiery indignation from moments earlier seemed to dissipate, she nibbled her lip, then met his look with a soft one of her own that made his stomach flip with delight. “It’s ok,” she mumbled, then pushed open the door to her room and climbed through, then turned back to him with a sweep of her arm as permission.

He grinned and held the flowers over his head as he ascended the final staircase into Marinette’s warm and welcoming bedroom. He’d been in here a few times before, but he was always amazed at how homey it felt. She had a smattering of projects littering her sewing machine, draped over the back of her chaise lounge, and on her dress form. There was a cork board over the computer desk with cutouts from various magazines and photographs of her friends pinned all over it. The early afternoon sun was streaming through the round window and the skylight over her bed. Adrien was struck with a sudden and intense urge to curl up in the light and take a long nap. But no! He had a job to do. “Where do you want the flowers?” he smiled.

“Um, how about… here,” she said, pointing to a small clear spot in the corner. 

“Now, now,” he winked, “you can hardly see them if they’re over there. Someone went out of their way to give you these lovely flowers, they should be somewhere you can enjoy them!”

She groaned, “Ugh! Fine, up by my bed on the nightstand!”

Adrien nodded once in agreement and carried the bouquet up to the platform where her bed was. He cleared a space on her nightstand and set them down, then took a moment to make sure the most beautiful side was turned toward her pillow so she would enjoy them all night. Perfect. “There,” he grinned, bouncing down the steps to the lower level, “now all we need to do is pick apart that card.”

“No,” she said flatly, with a steely glint in her eye. “I draw the line at letting you see that card.”

“Oho, so it _does_ say something flirty!”

She blushed and muttered, “Why me?”

Just then there was a light knock on the door to her bedroom. Adrien lifted the door and Sabine was smiling with two plates of sandwiches, “I thought you two might like some lunch up here today.”

“Wow, that’s so kind of you!” Adrien grinned and accepted the plates from ~~his future mother-in-law~~ Mme. Cheng. “Thank you!”

“But I thought you were leaving!” Marinette harrumphed as she fell into her computer chair, defeated.

Adrien held the two plates hesitantly and looked at her with the same soft look that had been working thus far and pouted, “Do you want me to go?”

Her lip trembled and she shook her head, “No.”

“Then lunch it is!” He took a peek. “Looks like fried eggplant and tomato. Yum!” He handed one plate to Marinette and she waited for Adrien to sit on the edge of her chaise lounge before taking a bite. He did the same. “Oh wow,” he moaned around his full mouth, “Your mom’s a good cook!”

The room fell quiet as they ate. Adrien looked around for something to talk about, when his eyes fell on a black garment on the chaise beside him, only partway built. “What’s this?” he said with interest.

She leapt off her chair and raced to the partially complete piece of clothing and whipped it away from him faster than he’d ever seen another human move. “Nothing!” she whimpered, “It’s nothing!”

He folded his arms and frowned, “Ok, Marinette, what’s wrong? You didn’t want me in your house, you didn’t want me in your room, and now you’re not letting me see your project?” Did she really hate him that much?

She scrunched up her nose in the most adorable manner, and finally let out a long hissing breath, “It’s not that I don’t want you here,” she muttered. “It’s just… it’s just kind of embarrassing.”

“Embarrassing?”

“Yeah! Like, here you are! In my room! Looking at my projects! Eating a sandwich!”

He chuckled, “Eating a sandwich is embarrassing?”

“Well, sort of—”

“No, I’ll tell you what’s embarrassing,” he leaned in, “That huge flower display. _That’s_ embarrassing.”

“I know, right?” she snuck a peek at the flowers by her bed and blushed again into her hands. “I don’t know why he would have sent them,” she muttered under her breath.

“He?”

She looked up at Adrien and groaned, “Fine, I’ll tell you, but please don’t read into it, ok?” He nodded in excitement. “I think the flowers were sent by Chat Noir.”

Adrien tried to put surprise on his face. “Really?”

“But I have no idea _why!_ He’s in love with Ladybug, and other than a few disastrous encounters, we really haven’t spent much time with each other…”

Adrien wouldn’t call them _disastrous._ “He must have been impressed, though. It’s easy to see why; you’re pretty impressive.”

She coughed and spluttered, “I’m what?”

“Sure! You’re creative and funny and—and cute…”

She blushed bright pink and turned away. “But why Chat Noir?” she whined. 

“Is it so hard to believe you could have captured his attention?”

“Yes!” she groaned, face-palming. “But even harder to believe that he’s over Ladybug. Unless he’s _not_ over Ladybug and he’s just leading me on… or maybe he didn’t mean them in a romantic sense… or maybe the roses didn’t come from him at all…”

As her voice faded into incomprehensible mumbling, Adrien didn’t want to interrupt her train of thought. Instead, he looked closer at the garment still in her lap. She was embroidering something with bright green thread on black cloth. It was hard to make out all wrinkled up like that, but he could see sleeves. “Hey, is that a jacket? No, a sweatshirt? Chat-Noir themed?”

“What? Oh! Y-yeah,” she said hesitantly, once again making Adrien wonder what he’d done to make her so nervous around him, “It was just an idea I had. I was inspired. Not that I find Chat Noir inspiring! Like, at all! He’s just a cool superhero—” Adrien’s heart skipped a beat— “and I think we should all celebrate him more than we do. But just as a cool superhero! Not… not romantic or anything!”

Adrien chuckled, “Can I see it?”

“Um, you want to?”

“Definitely.”

She fingered the material hesitantly, then nodded and picked it up. It was a jacket with an unusual asymmetric collar, zipper-lined accents, and small green pawprints along the hem. It was quite exquisite, even if the embroidery wasn’t done and it hadn’t been lined, and only had one sleeve attached. It was much too large for Marinette, which meant that she had to be making it for a boy about his size.

“Are you making it for him?” he whispered.

She blushed and nodded, “But _only_ as a friend because I like making things for my friends!”

Adrien winked, “It’s ok, Marinette. You know,” he added thoughtfully, standing and walking to her side to run a finger under the collar of the jacket, “I read about Chat Noir on the Ladyblog. We’re the same size… roughly speaking. Need a model?”

Her eyes widened, “You really don’t have to.”

“I know. I want to. Such a beautiful garment should be celebrated. But just as a nice garment, nothing weird, nothing like… romantic. I mean, I’m into girls.”

It took her a beat to pick up on the teasing note to his voice, but when she registered that he was playing with her, she rolled her eyes, “So glad to hear you don’t have a crush on an unfinished jacket.” 

There she was. There was his Lady. There was the sassy spunk that he craved so badly. She stood up, shook the jacket once to crisp up the seams, then held it out to him. He whipped off his white overshirt and slipped his arms through the sleeve-and-sleevehole. It fit him amazingly well. Something seemed to flip in Marinette’s head, because her eyes got this inspecting determination to them and she started circling him, tugging at hems, picking at threads, and humming to herself with her tongue poking out between her teeth. 

“Hm,” she said, “looks like my guesses were pretty good. But this pocket is placed weird. I was wondering about that but couldn’t really tell without a human model. I’ll have to move it down. Try moving your arm. Yeah, that looks like good flexibility. I guess the most important question, how does it feel?”

She looked up to him with such bright exuberance in her eyes that he felt himself drowning in the depths of those bluebell gems. “Great,” he sighed. “It feels fantastic.”

She blushed lightly and smiled but didn’t break eye contact. If he wasn’t already head-over-heels for her, he would have been now, swimming in those oceans of creativity, ingenuity, and care. 

“Adrien?” the sound of his name made shivers run down his spine.

“Yes?”

“Could you… take it off now?”

“Oh, uh,” now it was _his_ turn to blush, “of course.” He pulled off the partially finished jacket and Marinette folded it carefully and pulled out a notebook and wrote some notes to herself about it. 

“Thanks for helping me with it, though,” she smiled softly. “I don’t get to work with real models very often. Or ever.”

He sat back on the chaise lounge and took a bite of his lunch, “Well, if you ever need someone, I’m happy to help.”

She giggled to herself, and Adrien noted how much more comfortable she was now that she was in Designer!Marinette mode. “What would your agent say? Modeling part time for a no-name teenage designer?”

Adrien flashed his Chat Noir smirk and whispered, “They’d never need to know.”

“My my,” she teased, “aren’t you wicked. Uh, Ah! I mean, wickedly…wickedly funny! Y-yeah!” She shot finger-guns at him. Designer!Marinette had disappeared as quickly as she’d shown up. That’s ok. Shy!Marinette was dang cute too. 

“Hey, uh,” Adrien smiled, running his fingers over the hair at the back of his neck, “we’ve still got a little time before school resumes, want to play some video or something?”

She paused, then nodded slowly, “Video games,” she chanted absentmindedly. 

“I’ll take that as a yes,” he grinned and powered up her computer. Marinette seemed to be on a different planet as she put in her password and loaded up _De-Akumatizer,_ the perfected akuma-themed game Max had designed months ago—a version of which Chat Noir and Ladybug had gotten stuck in and had to play their way out.

“Oh sweet,” Adrien grinned as he took a controller, “I love this game!”

She gave him some side-eye, “I didn’t know Max had given you a copy.”

“Oh, um,” he swallowed hard and scratched his neck, “y-yeah, but just to borrow. Not to keep. I had to give it back when it was still in its beta stage.”

“Oh,” she responded simply, “well, then, you’ll know the rules.”

“For sure,” he responded quickly, “you can play as any akumatized character, and if you throw the other character out of the ring, you win, and get to keep your opponent’s loot and skills. The final round you play the head boss and can use loot you won from the lower levels.”

She gave him a scrutinizing gaze, then nodded slowly, “Yeah, that was the original version, but Max made some tweaks, and you can now play as Ladybug or Chat Noir, and there’s a team mode that’s pretty sweet… you must have had a _really_ early version of the game.”

He blushed, “Maybe I’m confusing it with a different game. I only played it o-once—or twice.” Once. He’d only played the akumatized-Max’s version. And that wasn’t this game at all. Stupid, Adrien! He’d really blown it! Marinette was giving him a very odd look, but eventually shook her head and blinked rapidly, then retrieved her own controller and started up the game. When Gamer!Marinette came out, he smiled and settled back into his chair. She was so enthusiastic about the game, explaining a few moves he should try, geeking out about some easter eggs Max had snuck in, kicking his butt and then respectfully giving him pointers on how to improve, that for the second time that afternoon, Adrien was sure he’d fallen for her again. As long as she wasn’t looking at him or talking about Chat Noir’s apparent crush on her, she was fine. They both got so wrapped up in the game (and Adrien got so wrapped up in Marinette’s exuberance) that they both jumped a foot when the alarm on Adrien’s phone buzzed.

“Oh!” he yelped, “School!”

“Shoot,” she muttered, saving their game and shutting off her computer, “we’d better hurry.”

She scooped up her bag and took the stairs two at a time. Adrien was impressed at her athleticism, even if she insisted that she was madly clumsy. “Hey, uh, Marinette?” he panted as he caught up to her on the stairs of Françoise Dupont.

“Yeah?” she responded automatically.

“Thanks for letting me come over for lunch. I really had a good time.”

“M-me too,” she smiled softly. 

“Maybe we can do it again? Lunch, I mean? Sometime soon?” She flushed and nodded. He brazenly reached in and brushed her cheek with his lips. She froze, gaping, turning brighter and brighter pink. Adrien wasn’t sure that was such a great reaction. But still, he tugged on her arm, “C’mon, Marinette, time for science.” 

“Time for l-lunch,” she mumbled, staring off into space, “w-with A-Adrien…”

Ok, so maybe it had been a good reaction after all.


End file.
